


Book II: The High Priestess

by DarkeShayde



Series: The Arcana: A Retelling [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Chance Meetings, Dreams, F/M, First Meetings, Magic, Mystery, Other, Travel, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 01:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20858000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkeShayde/pseuds/DarkeShayde
Summary: After a strange night followed by an unusual dream, Shayde starts her journey to the Palace to meet the Countess. A trip through the market brings more than one chance encounter. As luck would have it, Shayde runs into Portia, the Countess’ head servant.





	Book II: The High Priestess

I’ve seen many strange things in my time as a magician’s apprentice … But the events of this night were the strangest yet. It is going to take me quite a while to sort out everything that has happened, but I’m too tired to even attempt it right now. Seeking a moment’s rest, I go upstairs to lie down … and slip away, lost in a dream. The sky is no more than a slim, green line along the seemingly endless horizon. Asra sits beside me, on the back of a strange beast.

“Master, where are we?” I ask. Dark clouds bear down all around the barren landscape, a shifting sea of rust-colored sand. Ahead is a road of perfect black stone. What a bleak looking landscape.

“Far enough from home, I think.” He finally answers. Typical. Even in dreams, he won’t give me a straight answer. I know part if that is him wanting me to find out things on my own, but sometimes I just want him to tell me. I push this aside and focus on what he has told me.

“Far enough … for what?” I wonder.

“For answers. For clarity. And I need them soon. A storm is coming …” He looks out into the distance, his voice dimming to a wistful whisper. Answers are what I need right now. For example, a storm? Like a literal storm … or a figurative one? Looking ahead, I strain to see where the path leads, but it keeps changing even as I watch.

“Soon there will be a crossroads.” Asra goes on, this time without any prompting.

“How soon? Where do they lead?” I ask next, trying to hide the impatience I am feeling. If he knows that I am impatient to learn what he knows, he tends to shut down. I’ve not quite figured out why yet. Or how to counter this move.

“Depends on which one you take.” He says. That is usually how a crossroads works, yes. His hands reach for mine, but he stops just short. The sands rise all around us on a chilly wind, blotting out the sky. I can no longer see the horizon line. Everything has blurred together.

“For now, Shayde … rest.” All goes black and I fall into a dreamless slumber. When I wake, dawn light is filtering through the dusty windows. Dusty, because neither Asra or myself are very good at housekeeping, unfortunately. Well, I won’t be cleaning the shop today either. I spend the early morning hours preparing my things, casting wild shadows on the walls. Today, I am to meet the Countess at the Palace, for some unknown purpose. I throw on a traveling cloak of light grey over a plain dress that used to be a nice burgundy color. It is faded and patched now, but it is clean. I hurry outside, dragging the heavy door shut behind me. After last night’s intrusion … I turn the first lock, and then the second and third as well. Almost satisfied, I press my right hand to the door and whisper a cross-me-not spell. White whirls glow deep within the door, slowly fading into the grain.

I’m about to leave when the hair at the nape of my neck rises in alarm. Someone is … right beside me, a dark shape looming in the alley. At first, I don’t realize that I’m looking at a human. The form is certainly human in shape, though enormous in size. Their flesh is scored with scars, clean and jagged, shallow and deep. Shrouded in a pall of weather-beaten furs, it’s hard to make out a face … But they are definitely watching me. They stand between me and the road to the Palace. I take a step forward, watching the figure cautiously. Stormy green eyes follow my movements as I enter the alley, but the stranger makes no move. A voice like distant thunder rumbles from beneath their robes.

“You are in grave danger.” The voice says. The earthy smell of myrrh washes over me, and I stop in my tracks. “He will return, uninvited. He will offer you a gift, when you need it most … Turn it away. Or you will fall into his hand … Just like the rest of us.” I blink, trying to process what I just heard. There is shuffling behind me, the dragging of rough cloth and chains. And then, silence. I look up and down the foggy alley. I left the shop, and then … wasn’t someone else here just now? I shake off the fading thought. I don’t have time to dawdle; the Countess is expecting me. Exhaling deeply, I continue toward the narrow, mossy steps that will lead me to the marketplace.

It’s early yet, and the marketplace is already wide awake. All around me are the sounds of bartering, laughter, and vendors hawking their wares. The marketplace is the catch all. Want to know what is going on? The marketplace is full of shopkeepers that know everything there is to know. Need a particular item for a project or a special someone? The marketplace has anything you could ever want. I love all that I can find here, I just wish there weren’t quite so many people. I don’t care for crowds. A voice I know well calls out to me over the sea of noise.

“Shayde! Have you eaten?” The baker asks. He knows that I tend to get distracted and forget about food. “I’ve got that pumpkin loaf you like in the oven. Won’t be long now. Come, sit down, talk for a while!” I sniff the air on impulse and my stomach twists in hunger. Then again, I should probably be careful of the time … I decline the invitation with a wave of my hand. The baker nods, ducking back inside the sweet-smelling booth. It’s just as well. If I had stayed, I would probably be grilled about where I am going and who had visited the shop last night. Gossip travels fast around here.

I hear a cry above me, so I look up. A raven, perched overhead, meets my gaze. At once, it has my full attention. Its fathomless eyes look beyond me, over my shoulder. I cast a subtle glance backward … and my heart stutters in shock. Julian moves casually through the throng, without his mask. Because of his height, he is clearly visible. He doesn’t seem to have spotted me. I think I’ll keep it that way, if I can. Without a second thought, I turn and duck into the crowd. It was him. It definitely was. And unmasked, in broad daylight? A terrifying thought occurs to me. If he is here, now … Has he been nearby, all along? Is he following me?

I chance a backwards glance, to see if I’ve been spotted. Just then, the raven gives another call, drawing Julian’s eye toward me. Our eyes lock. My heart skips a beat. The crowd may as well be invisible. I feel his gaze boring into the back of my skull. But I know this marketplace. I know where to turn, and where to hide. I leave the beaten path, weaving through the booths like a wild phantom. I don’t dare to look back. As I climb the well-worn steps, something catches my eye.

A fortune teller’s booth, tucked away in a shady corner. How nostalgic … Asra once operated out of a place just like it. As I’m lost in my musings, a young, female patron emerges from the booth.

“Lucky numbers, check. Groceries-” I don’t notice her backing into me until we crash right into each other. “Ack!” She exclaims. The impact makes me stumble, teetering on the edge of a step, but not quite falling all the way. It also upsets the basket balanced on the stranger’s hip … which sends a dozen pomegranates rolling down the stairs.

“Oh, perfect!” The stranger grumbles. “As if I wasn’t already late …” I drop into crouch beside the stranger to help. I spot a pomegranate as it’s about to be stomped under a stray hoof, and swipe it at the last second. When I hand it back to the stranger, her eyes sparkle with delight.

“Ooh, thank you! How sweet of you to help.” She says. “And after I bumped into you in the first place.” I offer her a smile. I’m not the most graceful person in the world, so I can hardly fault someone else for not being graceful either. Together, we hunt the rest of the pomegranates. They’re a little bruised but no worse for wear.

“Well, I can’t thank you enough!” She rises to her feet, and offers me a hand. The skin of her small palm is rough against mine, calloused. This young woman is even shorter than I am. Her hair is ginger colored and full of adorable, bouncy curls. Her clear blue eyes sparkle with a mischievous light. Her pale face is littered with a generous sprinkling of freckles. There is something vaguely familiar about her, but I can’t say exactly what. I do know I like her right away.

“Probably shouldn’t do this, but …” Rubbing it off on a sleeve of her Palace servant’s uniform, she offers me a fruit from the basket. When I accept it, the stranger gives me a smile that warms my chest. The world would be a much better place if more people acted like that to each other. Just generally friendly and nice.

“Take care, all right? I’ll see you around-” The stranger’s eyes widen when she takes a closer look at me. “Wait, wait, wait! I know you!”

“Er …” I trail off uncertainly. I’m at a complete loss. I have no idea who she is, no matter how familiar she seems.

“You’re Shayde, the magician. Countess Nadia said we were expecting you.” She exclaims. _We?_ “You can call me Portia. I’m milady’s head servant.” Oh. All the pieces click together. The pomegranates were for the Palace. And Portia’s name rings a bell. I think I’ve heard of her, through gossip in the market.

“Well, how lucky are we?” She asks with a smile. “Come on. I’ll show you the quickest path to the Palace.” I nod thankfully and fall into step next to her. As the sun journeys across the sky, Portia and I climb stair, after stair, after seemingly infinite stair. The higher we ascend, the fewer travelers we encounter along the way. By the time we reach the top of the stairs, I can barely walk anymore. Though Portia seems as energetic as ever. She graciously pauses to let me catch my breath. I’m not in bad shape, but clearly I could use some more regular exercise.

“Shayde … I’m glad you’re here. The Countess could use good help. And you look like a good sort to me.” Portia says with a wink. I hope I am able to help her. She seemed certain I could when she came to the shop last night. When we reach the Palace, it’s near dark. Before me is a towering gate of twisted iron. Beyond that, the Palace rises in a swirl of glittering spires. Two guards stand in either side of the gate. Their eyes glint at me from behind their helmets. But they lower their weapons when they see Portia.

“Ludovico, Bludmila, this is Shayde. She’ll be staying as our guest.” Portia makes introductions. “Shayde, Ludovico and Bludmila.” The guards nod at me, their stiff posture relaxing. In unison, they push open the heavy iron gate.

“After you, Shayde.” Portia says. The gates slam shut behind me, and there is no turning back. Portia leads me across a long, steep bridge. Some kind of eel twists through swirling waters below, glowing like a bloodless ghost. Portia tugs on my arm, leading me away from the edge of the bridge.

“Come on. We don’t want to keep milady waiting.” As we approach the intricate front doors of the Palace, anxieties start to rise like bubbles in water when it comes to a boil within me. Is this wise? What awaits me, in this fortress so far from home? Too soon, we are standing before the doors. Portia turns to me with a smile.

“Here we are!” She swings her fist against the copper plating, three skull-rattling strikes. As the last echos fade away, the pendulous doors swing inward … And I am swept inside.


End file.
